Thursday, November 11, 2021

Cabin

 
 
 

 
 
 
 Cabin
 
 
 
The war was lost, the way
worse. I felt
the tired mare sigh
a heart-green path to
my old lover, the oldest lost
 and brown-eyed truth,
 a place to fold us
peel to apple,
bird to song.
 
I rearranged his
forest home as if
it were mine
 
and so it was
the old mare sighed.

 
 
 

 November 2021




 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 posted for dVerse Poets
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
This poem has been edited since first posted.
 
 
 
 
 
Images: Illustration for "Vasilisa the Beautiful." 1900,  © Ivan Bilibin  Public Domain
Peasant Girl Near A Cabin, 1895, © Camille Corot   Public Domain
 
 

24 comments:

  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

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  2. Well...you cannot get more atmospheric than that...Really like the use of the forest, so much, and agree with the previous comment...the lines rather took my breath away...

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    1. Thank you. I can't find this profile linked at dVerse or figure out where your blog is, but thanks for reading.

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  3. I am re-doing my comment to suit the revised poem.

    "In the pines in the pines where the sun never shines and I shiver the whole night through." I'm figuring your "in the pines" tag references Huddie Ledbetter's song, one of my all time favorites. Fred Neil does an excellent version.

    Anyway that sequence "a place to fold us peel to apple, bird to song" is just delicious writing. The feel is very different now, and I think the poem is much stronger. Brava!

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    1. Thank you, Shay. Sorry to have messed up your original comment with my compulsive editing. ;)

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  4. Masterful poem, a weary, elegaic quality to it........
    a place to fold us
    peel to apple,
    bird to song....these lines stick in the head, as Shay says above..."delicious writing."

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    1. Thanks Jim. I'll be out and about in the morning. Look forward to reading yours.

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  5. This 55 finds where outbreath fails us, inbreath yet finds sails to the paramour's forest bower. Thanks to the old mare for declaring the quest for "a place to fold us / peel to apple, / bird to song" is the same as it ever was beginning to end of poem. Have a kick-ass weekend, friend.

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  6. I could hear the brown mare sign in this evocative poem

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  7. So sorrowful and understated: a fitting tribute to those bereaved by war.

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    1. Well, not what I meant but it could go that way, I suppose. Thanks for reading, Ingrid.

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  8. The first lines really resonate with me. So much of life is like that and yet somehow a way is found.

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  9. A lovely sentiment throughout this poem, Hedgewitch. A feeling of comfort even though there's loss. At least there's the forest home and the war is over. The path is heart-green as it should be, so healing can begin. <3

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  10. "heart-green path to
    my old lover, the oldest lost
    and brown-eyed truth,
    a place to fold us
    peel to apple,
    bird to song."

    we sometimes call a cabin a "retreat", and i think that is the code here. so if apple is to peel and bird to song, then heart goes to hearth and green to love and fold is to hold, and the world gets stronger again when we "retreat", that is what i see. lots of strong and mysterious images here, lots of earth soul. i could go on and on about cabins, i used to take old photos of old cabins around the mountains of colorado as they "retreat" back into the earth, i see if i can find them. beautiful poem joy!

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    1. Thanks Phillip. You totally get it. Would love to see the pics.

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  11. The grief of different losses frames this poem well. War, what was known as home, and even the heart. Beautifully done.

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  12. Oh I love how you used the 55... is it still on, I might need to join. There are so many images to love here... the horse and the return to home. I actually thought about Robert Frost and his poem about returning on a cold winter night.

    I think there is a solace returning even if the war is lost... as long as there is someone waiting.

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    1. Yes, exactly, Bjorn. Thanks. No, the Friday 55 is gone, I'm afraid, but I like to do one if I can, just to remember it.

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  13. Like the essence of long story of war and its aftermath. So poignant--this person finding a home
    "a place to fold us
    peel to apple,
    bird to song."

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  14. (Working my way back through all this excellent work!) I love how concise and evocative this is. The language of a tiredness so deep words become concentric, circling towards home.

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  15. "a heart-green path to / my old lover" Oh, wow. That's fantastic. The whole poem a concise, constricting, tourniquet! (Working through your back catalog of recent poems now...)

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  16. as one who has lost a heart-green path, the sighs echo loudly.

    I imagine Galen observing and encouraging to saddle up, wryly. If only ~

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"We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, out of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry." ~William Butler Yeats